


of legends untold

by manusinistra



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/F, Lots of plot, finally not a college au, loonaverse-inspired magic, most of ot12 show up later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-01-12 07:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18441899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manusinistra/pseuds/manusinistra
Summary: Lip washes ashore in Haseul's territory with no ship, no money and clothing in tatters.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little different from my other loona stuff - pirates with loonaverse-inspired magic instead of another college au. Trying out having a plot this time, so we'll see how that goes. I've got 5 parts planned, but everything gets longer as I write it so honestly who knows.

Lip wakes up with her face in the sand, surf lapping at her sides. 

She’s alive, which is a surprise. That was a really angry sea monster. A kraken, maybe – it didn’t introduce itself before it smashed her ship to pieces. Lip got her crew out safe on the lifeboats, but she didn’t expect to be around to feel anything at this point: the last thing she remembers a giant suction-cupped tentacle was wrapping around her neck. 

There are bruises there now, purpling already. There’s also sand. So much sand, in her eyes, in her mouth, scratching at every inch of skin exposed by her now-ruined clothes. Maybe all I am is sand, she thinks, spitting some out.

(That happened to her once, thanks to some cursed treasure. It took forever to track down a witch who could restore her to flesh and blood, and in the meantime she left a grainy trail everywhere she went, to Jinsoul’s never-ending amusement. Choerry tried to be sympathetic but Lip would catch her laughing too, halfheartedly hiding it behind her hands. Lip hopes the two of them made it to land – her first mates are annoying, but she’s gotten used to their particular brand of annoying. She’d miss them, maybe, if she never saw them again.)

Lip staggers to her feet, squinting against the sun. She’s in a bay shaped like a half moon, and in the distance she can make out a rocky crag rising into the air. At its top, there’s a familiar flag: a white bird, wings outstretched against a field of green.

Lip’s stomach drops. Of course she’d land in Haseul’s territory. With no ship, no money, and clothing in tatters. 

There are worse places to be, logically speaking. Haseul will give her clothes and shelter; if she washed ashore in Eden, Yves would leave her to sleep naked on the sand for a week just to see how badly she’d sunburn. 

Haseul’s territory means seeing Haseul, though, and Lip might prefer the naked sunburn.

The sandpaper scratch in her throat reminds her that she needs water if she’s going to continue being alive. So, dread in each step, she starts up the path that leads to Haseul’s camp. 

;;

It’s a long, slow walk, and Lip has an eternity to think about how much she doesn’t want to see Haseul.

For the record, the problem isn’t that Haseul is bad. There’s no love lost between pirate captains, but Haseul is so brave and so skilled that she transcends the usual factions. Everyone’s a little in awe of her, and Lip is. Well. A little more than that. 

Years ago, when they were still making names for themselves, they joined forces to pull off a complicated, high-risk heist. The empire fleet showed up halfway through, and they should have ended up in jail (at best) or at the bottom of the sea (more likely). Somehow they escaped anyway and later that night, drunk off adrenaline and a barrel of rum, Lip found her way into Haseul’s bed.

Where she proceeded to pass out before anything could happen. And drool into Haseul’s pillow.

The next morning Haseul ruffled her hair, thanking her for an almost good time. Lip hasn’t been able to look her in the eye since. 

They’ve only seen each other a few times in the intervening years, but everywhere Lip goes she hears tales of Haseul. How she banished a ring of slave traders to another dimension, how she got into a singing match with a siren and won. The stories are unbelievable but then so is Haseul – even reality might bend its shape around the force of her. 

;;

After an hour of walking, Lip is nearing the end of her endurance. The world looks squigglier than usual, and the light feels too bright even in the shade in the way that means her body is about to shut down. When the trees clear and she catches sight of a watchtower, she’s far enough gone that relief outweighs her trepidation. 

Haseul’s base is half shipyard, half town, everything surrounded by a menacing spike-tipped wall. It’s the most organized pirate camp Lip has ever encountered, but then that makes sense: Haseul started out like the rest of them, chasing after treasure and being chased by the empire, but now she has a hand in two thirds of the trade that moves by sea. Even the authorities look the other way for her – they want their coffee shipments to keep coming, and Haseul always delivers on time. 

The lookout calls down to Lip as she reaches the gate.

“Who goes there?”

“Tell Haseul it’s Kim Lip.”

“Why should I bother? You don’t look important.”

“Just do it. She’ll want to talk to me.”

The lookout grumbles something about pushy women but goes, leaving Lip to lean against the wall. Standing is becoming difficult – there’s black encroaching at the edges of her vision, and her throat is so dry that she can’t swallow. 

When the gate opens, Haseul is there. 

She’s gotten fancy since the last time they met, her plain work shirt traded in for flowing white linen and a jeweled cutlass hanging at her hip. 

Lip blames the dehydration for thinking: maybe I did die, because that is what an angel looks like. 

“Lip,” Haseul says, looking her up and down. 

“Hi, Haseul.”

“I see you’re trying out a new look. Shipwreck chic, I like it.”

Lip blinks at her, and then the blink goes on for too long, and Lip opens her eyes again just long enough to see Haseul lunge to catch her as she falls. 

;;

Lip comes to in a bed with a cool, wet cloth draped over her forehead. 

“You’re making a habit of passing out on me,” Haseul says. Lip keeps her eyes closed, feigning sleep, wishing the ocean had just taken her. “I can see you blushing, you know. Unconscious people don’t blush.”

Lip blinks her eyes open and there Haseul is, smiling with something between fondness and amusement. She's sitting beside Lip on the bed, holding a cup of water, and she leans in closer to tilt it to Lip’s mouth. 

“Drink slow. Your body is only half working.”

Lip takes a swallow, then a second. And then it hits her that this bed is definitely Haseul’s bed and she flashes back to what happened the last time she was here. She chokes, spraying water over them both.

“You never listen to me,” Haseul sighs. “At least you woke up. I was going to be so mad at you if you showed up just to die.” 

Lip sits up and takes the cup for herself, trying to regain some control of the situation. At Haseul’s glare she obediently drinks more, this time swallowing down small, careful sips.

“Yeah, well,” Lip says when her throat can make words. “I’m too stubborn to die.”

Haseul laughs, but there’s worry in the crease of her eyes.

“How did you get here?”

“Drifted, I guess. Lost my ship, and I’m not sure what happened after that. What day is it?”

“Wednesday.”

“We got attacked on Monday.”

“That explains why you’re like this. Two days in the water is a long time.”

“It is.” Lip furrows her brows – her brain is starting to work again, and she matches that amount of time to the distance she’d have to have traveled. “But it’s not long enough. We were all the way at the Spires.”

Haseul frowns. She knows as well as Lip that a trip from the Spires takes four days. Three, maybe, with a fast ship and a strong tailwind. The fact that Lip drifted here in two doesn’t just stretch credulity – it’s outright impossible. 

“Tell me what happened. All the details.”

Haseul’s voice goes low, and Lip shivers at the command in it. Reminds herself that this is not the time to be thinking _I'd do anything you ask as long as you use that tone_.

“We were on the way back from a pretty normal job," Lip starts. "A nobleman sent us to recover family heirlooms from the pirates that looted his ship. If you can even call them pirates, that is. They were complete pushovers. I didn’t even have to fire a cannon before they surrendered.” 

Lip notices that Haseul is grinning at her, eyes soft with something. She looks down, self-conscious, and swallows before continuing: 

“But anyway, we’d loaded the cargo and just started back when things got. Weird.” 

“Weird how?”

Haseul is focused now, leaning forward to catch every word. Lip replays what happened in her mind, searching for a way to describe it that won’t sound insane. There’s magic in the world, but it has rules – it’s as predictable as anything else, once you understand it. 

This, though. This was new. 

“It’s like the whole world changed from one moment to the next. It was a clear day, and the ship was moving well. No sign of trouble at all – Choerry was even singing her ode to sunshine. And then there was a storm out of nowhere. The sky went black, and the water was the wrong color, and it felt, I don’t know. Angry. I’d never experienced anything like it before.”

“So the storm took your ship?”

“Oh, no. That was the kraken.”

Haseul stares for a second, then bursts out laughing. Lip frowns at her.

“I’m sorry, it’s not funny that you lost your ship. But come on, Lip, way to bury the lede.”

“I’m trying!” Lip whines. “See how well you narrate when you’re half dead.” 

Haseul puts a hand on her shoulder, light and comforting, and something in Lip short-circuits. 

Haseul is touching her. In a bed. They’re in a bed and Haseul is touching her.

After a few seconds of silence Haseul takes the hand back, looking at Lip expectantly. 

Oh, right. She’s telling a story. 

“So, um.” Lip runs a hand through her hair, trying to recover. “There was a kraken. It just appeared, too. With the storm and everything else. By the time we realized what was happening it was already wrapped around the ship.”

“Did anyone else survive?”

“I think so. Crew got off the ship, at least.”

“And you stayed even though it was getting destroyed.”

Lip shrugs one shoulder.

“I’m the captain. If anyone’s going down, it should be me.”

“So how did you get here?”

“I don’t know. The kraken had me, and then I woke up here.”

Lip is prepared for Haseul to be confused, disbelieving even. It sounds like a fever dream to her own ears. The last thing she expects is for Haseul to clap her hands together in excitement, beaming like Lip just handed her a map to the secret of immortality. 

“Why do you look like that? What’s going on?”

“It’ll be easier to show you. Can you walk? If not, I can carry you.”

Lip shoots out of the bed so fast she makes herself dizzy.

“Nope, I’m good. Totally good. That’s me.”

Haseul leads her down a hall and into an office. It’s a giant mess: there’s paper everywhere, scrolls stacked three deep on a desk, maps tacked to every inch of wall, loose sheets spread over the floor. Lip takes a step and dislodges one pile, knocking over the skull weighing down its corner. Her hands itch to organize, to make the chaos manageable.

“This is how the great captain Haseul runs her operations? It’s a disaster in here.”

“Hey, I know where everything is. And thieves are less successful when they can't find things.”

“Sure. Tell yourself that.”

Haseul does a complicated hop-skip-jump to get to the other side of the room and rummages through a pile of things. Lip just waits, because there’s no way she can do that in her current state and the island of clear floor Haseul’s standing on is only big enough for one person anyway. 

Haseul finds a set of papers, returns to Lip and spreads them out over a mostly clear table. 

“Look at this.”

Lip peers over her shoulder at the papers. The one on top is an official-looking account of an encounter with a sea creature: it destroyed an empire ship but killed no one, and the lead officer describes experiencing ‘strange spatio-temporal phenomena.’ Which means, Lip realizes, that he too woke up somewhere he couldn’t possibly have gotten without shattering the rules of space and time.

“There are a dozen of these reports,” Haseul says. “And I thought that maybe this was an elaborate empire ruse, but you showing up here confirms it. There’s something important happening, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

Lip flips through the papers, noting that each one has the empire crest impressed in wax. Documents marked like that only come from the capitol, and even a pirate of Haseul's ability would have trouble breaking through their defenses. 

“How do you even have these?”

“Oh, an officer showed up and offered me three chests of gold if I can figure out what’s happening.” 

“You’re on the empire’s payroll now?”

“Well, unofficially. I can never tell anyone, they said."

"I see that’s going well."

“You know how I feel about empire rules. Besides, you need to know. You’re coming with me.”

She says that like it's a foregone conclusion, and Lip is nodding along with her until she processes the words.

“Wait, what now?”

“I get to recruit whoever I want, and who better than someone who’s seen this thing first hand.”

“But I need to find Jinsoul and Choerry, and-”

“And we’ll find them, on the way. How far were you going to get in searching on your own? With no ship?”

Lip rubs at her neck, embarassed.

“I hadn’t gotten that far.”

“Well, I have. I’ll help you if you help me. We make a good team, if I remember right.”

Haseul’s grin is bright, and whatever resolve Lip had crumbles in the face of it. 

“Ok. For as long as you need me, I’m yours.”


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh. It's been a lot longer than a week. I'm sorry for disappearing on y'all - writer's block really got me on this one, and I got intimidated by my own plot setup. I think this fic is back on track now, though, if there's anyone out there still reading. Hopefully this update makes sense/is enjoyable? I won't say the next part will be a week, but it certainly shouldn't take as long as this one did.

After Lip agrees to join the quest, exhaustion catches up with her. 

She barely makes it back to bed, leaning on Haseul with each step before collapsing and sleeping the whole afternoon. 

When she wakes, she feels much more alive. She rolls out of bed, and this time the world around her stays in order - ground below, ceiling above, Haseul’s cluttered room spread out in between. Stretching her arms and legs, she’s pleased to find power returned to her muscles, like her body might listen to directions instead of going rogue again at the first opportunity. Maybe she’ll get to keep hold of consciousness for a while this time.

A cool breeze comes in through the window. It makes her shiver, which in turn makes her realize that her clothes are less clothes than tiny, tattered shreds. She’s been walking around and talking to Haseul – _leaning on Haseul_ – with most of her torso on display.

She’s hiding under the blanket when Haseul returns.

“Oh hey, you’re awake. Good, we need to talk strategy.”

“Can I have some clothes first?”

“But I was so enjoying this aesthetic.” 

“Haseul.”

“I’m kidding! Help yourself to anything I have.”

Lip starts to get up. Realizes that Haseul is still there, not watching her per se but not looking away either. 

“Could you maybe bring me something?” 

Haseul laughs, full and loud, and Lip hates herself for thinking it sounds like bells. Even embarrassment can’t stop her brain, apparently.

“I forget that you grew up in civilization. But sure, you go be modest behind the changing screen and I’ll fetch you something, milady.” 

Haseul hands Lip a dress first. It’s flowy and floral, the kind in fashion in the high courts but utterly useless on a ship. You’d get stuck on the first splinter, and Lip can’t imagine trying to move cargo or wrestle down sail ropes in something that invests so much in charm at the expense of function. 

The dress makes Lip feel helpless, and once she has it on she doesn’t want to come out from behind the screen. Haseul calls for her, though, so she appears.

“Why are you being shy,” Haseul says. “You’re so pretty like this.”

Lip looks down, torn between reactions. She wants Haseul to think she’s pretty, but she’s not sure it’s worth it if she has to wear a dress to get Haseul’s attention. She hates looking like this – it reminds her of things she took to the sea to escape.

Thankfully, though, Haseul gives her other clothes. Lip speeds back behind the screen without looking at them, but once she’s out of sight she turns them over in her hands appreciatively. Pants, shirt, and jacket, all made of fine material. 

Putting them on, Lip feels confident. This is a better version of her, a more powerful one, and she’s always found it easier to act like a captain when she has the clothes to match. Maybe she’s shallow, but there’s power in appearance. 

Look enough like a thing and you convince everyone. Even yourself. 

When she walks out, she meets Haseul’s gaze.

“Aren’t I pretty like this, too?”

Shock spreads across Haseul’s features, her eyes going wide and mouth dropping open. 

Lip can’t believe she said it either but she holds eye contact, ignoring how hot she feels, how red her ears must be. Haseul is the one who looks away first, and it’s a thousand losses to one victory for Lip but she swells with it nonetheless. It feels like a reset, like a playing field tilted against her just became level. 

She keeps the clothes.

;;

It’ll take two weeks to prepare, according to Haseul. She offers to let Lip stay with her in the meantime. 

“I don’t mind having you around,” she says, in a way that might mean Lip could keep sleeping in Haseul’s bed. Maybe with Haseul in it, too. 

Lip declines, half because being that red all the time doesn’t seem great for recovery and half because Haseul is actually a slob. Lip was too distracted to notice before, with all the almost dying, but the mess isn’t just in Haseul’s office. It’s spread all over her house, and after Lip has been awake for a full day she understands why. Whenever Haseul finishes with a thing she just leaves it there – dishes, books, incredibly nice clothing that did nothing to deserve this kind of treatment. It’s like the cost of all the plans coalescing inside her mind is complete and utter chaos in the things that aren’t important enough to plan for. 

And Lip hates mess, but she’s glad to have found a bad habit in Haseul: it’s something to focus on when she seems too good to be true.

At one point Haseul drops a leather jacket into a heap on the floor, and Lip makes an involuntary sound of protest.

“What,” Haseul says. “It’s enchanted against wrinkles. Water and surprise attacks, too.”

“Then it deserves even more respect!” Lip picks up the jacket and shakes it out, taking it to the closet. Where there are more things on the ground than on hangers. “Why are you like this.”

Lip glares back over her shoulder at Haseul, because this is among the most offensive sights she’s ever encountered. 

“You should take some more. Rescue them from me if you’ll treat them that much better.”

“Fine. I will.”

It takes all of Lip’s restraint not to fix the closet as she goes, which is why she needs to stay elsewhere. Haseul has been very accommodating, but her tolerance might run out if Lip cleans and reorganizes her entire lair. 

So, Lip ends up in a two-room cabin at the edge of camp. It’s maybe also a prison, judging by the barred windows and the fact that there’s a smirking woman guarding it all the time. 

“Are you holding me captive?” Lip asks through the bars.

“Do you want to leave?”

“Well, no.”

“Then of course not.”

;;

Haseul comes to get Lip for dinner. She doesn’t quite apologize for keeping Lip locked up.

“My lieutenants don’t trust you.”

“Do you?”

“I trust them,” Haseul says, which isn’t an answer. 

Dinner happens outside, in view of the sea. There’s a long wooden table bright with torchlight, piled with roasted meat and dozens of side dishes. The smells makes Lip’s mouth water, but then she catches sight of Haseul’s lieutenants, a circle of men and women who radiate “you shouldn’t be here.” Each individual face adds an accent to that message, suspicion or resentment or outright hostility toward the outsider at their captain’s side. 

The only break in the glares comes from Lip’s guard, who is seated at Haseul’s other shoulder. 

“Enjoying the fresh air?” the guard says amiably. 

She isn’t eating anything, Lip notices, just drinking a mysterious substance from her goblet. Something turns at her elbow when she lifts the cup, and Lip realizes with a start that it’s a gear. She’s made of metal - or at least part of her is. One arm is obviously clockwork, but her face seems as real as any of the rest of them, and now Lip is looking her over with interest, trying to figure out how she works. 

Haseul notices. 

“Do we have a problem,” she says, voice suddenly hard.

“What? No, it’s so cool.” Lip turns back to the guard, whose smirk is more smile now. “Is that kerosene you’re drinking? I’ve never seen automata survive so close to the water. Do you have magic too, to keep from rusting? I mean. Unless you don’t want to talk about it. Sorry.”

;;

As the days pass, Lip gets the whole story from her guard.

Her name is Vivi, and she was human once, probably. She can’t know for sure, because her memories from that time are hazy and fractured; trying to fit them into a coherent whole is like trying to make a puzzle from three different sets of pieces. 

In any case, the body she has now is half flesh, half metal, all stitched together with magic. She shows Lip her seams, the impossible smoothness between disparate elements. 

In between their conversations, Lip takes to poring over the documents Haseul brings her. There’s nothing else to do, beyond worry about Choerry and Jinsoul and plan escape attempts doomed from the start. 

Sometimes Haseul comes to look with her and talk through theories, and it’s during one of those times that Lip notices something. Haseul has already marked the various kraken encounters on a map, and sketched a number of possible patterns to make sense of them.

If Lip adds her own experience as a point, it changes the distribution. Squinting, she grabs blank paper and a compass, sketching out the hunch taking shape in her mind.

When she’s done, the pattern fits: it’s a nautilus spiral, converging on a clear central location. 

Haseul is beyond excited. Her hug is more of a tackle, and Lip ends up splayed on the floor from the force of it. 

“I shouldn’t be surprised you saw something,” Haseul says. “You have great eyes.”

Lip has barely recovered from the hug, so that’s a knockout blow.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, hiding her face in Haseul’s shoulder. 

It gets her every time, the way Haseul can shift between personas in the blink of an eye. She could almost prepare if she knew what was coming, but from one moment to the next, she never knows which Haseul she’s going to get: the master planner, the playful flirt, the captain inspiring fierce devotion from her crew. 

She wonders if anyone gets to see the Haseul who's just a person, behind all the legends that make a shape for her. 

;;

Every day spent in Haseul’s camp the pull of the sea gets stronger.

Lip is never quite at home on land. The ground is too dead – she doesn’t trust it. Water talks to those who listen, tells her whether she’s headed for a storm or a smooth day of sailing. Land gives fewer clues, and it feels wrong to Lip: standoffish, withholding, an absence where there should be presence. 

Coupled with being in a rival camp, it itches at Lip.

“Can’t we just go already,” she says to Haseul over dinner on the seventh day. The food continues to be excellent, but Lip would trade it for hardtack in a second if it meant they could get underway. 

“Some of us like to plan before we go off in search of mystical creatures.”

“I plan!” Lip protests. “Just not quite this much.”

“And see where that got you. Really, you have a lot of opinions for someone who’s at my mercy.” 

Haseul takes an unbothered bite of food. Lip opens her mouth, about to fire back, but she catches all Haseul’s people glaring extra hard. She lowers her gaze, because that’s fair - it’s not like her crew would enjoy someone undermining her authority, either. 

“I’m sorry for questioning you,” she says, trying to sound contrite.

Haseul snorts.

“Sure you are.”

;;

Finally, after two weeks, it’s time to go. Lip discovers a whole new problem.

The ship they're taking is plenty big, but it’s still a pirate ship: there are no passenger quarters, just a captain’s cabin and an open bay for the crew. 

“Where am I going to stay?” she asks Haseul. 

“With me, of course. Unless you’d prefer to be with the crew for some reason.”

Lip doesn’t - she’s gotten used to having her own space, and sleeping among people who would just as soon throw her overboard doesn’t seem like an ideal situation.

Still. That’s a lot of time spent alone with Haseul. 

Haseul sees her hesitation, squeezes her arm.

“Hey, we'll be fine. It’s not like you’re going to fall for me, right?”

“Right,” Lip says. And if that’s not a lie, it’s because she’s already fallen so far there’s nowhere left to go.

;;

Their first stop is the Bay of Teeth, a black market town where pirates and other ne’er-do-wells congregate. It trades in gossip as much as goods, and Haseul wants to see if anyone else has encountered impossible sea monsters, get a few more points to confirm the pattern. And hopefully hear news of Lip’s crew, too. 

It’s only half a day away, so before nightfall they reach the jagged run of rocks that gives the bay its name. They’re set in interlocking rows, like shark’s teeth, and unless you know the route through you’ll smash your ship to pieces. It’s good natural protection from the empire, and you can tell a pirate’s worth from whether they’ve earned knowledge of way in. 

Haseul is at the wheel, Lip standing behind her, expecting to watch her navigate through. Except:

“Why don’t you take us in.”

“You’d trust me with your ship?”

“I’m going to have to trust you with more than that, where we’re going. Think of this as a first step.”

Lip takes the wheel, and a familiar joy rises in her. This ship moves differently from hers - it’s more finicky, built for finer control instead of speed. It’s still a ship, though, and this is her element. 

She lets her power grow in her. She doesn’t need full super speed, but she flexes her abilities just enough so that she’s moving faster than the rest of the world. With that, she has time to catalogue and react to every part of the scene: minute shifts in the wind, the current swirling around stone teeth, the way the ship reacts to her control. 

(This is part of why Haseul’s lieutenants do so much glaring. People are more than usually distrustful of Lip and her crew, because word has gotten around about their…enhancements. They aren’t fully magical, but they aren’t per se human either. Which, who cares. Humanity is overrated.)

Lip makes it through smoothly, then sinks back into normal speed. 

“Good,” Haseul says, more relieved than is reasonable. “It really is you.”

Lip furrows her brows.

“Was that in question?”

“Given all the things going on and the way you showed up, I wasn’t sure. Someone could’ve stolen your face. Tried to use it to get close to me.”

“What would you have done if I took the wrong path?”

“Taken over before you crashed, then killed you. Probably some torture first, to see if I could figure out who sent you.” 

Lip blinks, because wow that’s a lot to unpack. From how blasé Haseul is about the possibility of shape shifters, to how natural she was at setting Lip up for a potentially fatal test. But, all Lip can think about is: Haseul likes her face enough for someone to use it to get close to her. 

“You really do plan for everything,” Lip finally says.

“Have to. It’s what keeps me alive.”

;;

Lip and Haseul go alone into town, because it’s easier to ask discreet questions without an entourage.

They go to the bar, where there are whispers of strange creatures, people losing days and appearing across vast distances. Interestingly, no one seems to have died in any of the encounters. It gives Lip hope: maybe everyone is still out there, somewhere. 

Then, unfortunately, a man recognizes Lip. He’s very drunk, which means he's not scared of her. 

“Hey you.” He sits down at their table without invitation. “Aren’t you the leader of that merry band of freaks? Did you lose the rest of them? Hell of a captain, can’t even keep track of her crew.” 

Under the table, Haseul puts her hand on Lip’s leg. It’s comfort, but also a warning; there’s strength enough in the grip to hold Lip in place if she starts getting stupid ideas. 

Not that she was fantasizing about flipping the table and smashing his head in with it, or anything.

“Why do you ask?” Haseul's voice is calm. “Have you heard something?”

At which point the door bursts open and Jinsoul appears. Soaking wet, with a giant fish in her hands.

“Pay up, I told you I’d catch it. Oh, Lip? Hey! You’re alive too, that’s awesome!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twt: [@leaderline97](https://twitter.com/leaderline97)  
> cc: [@leaderline97](https://curiouscat.me/leaderline97)


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk y'all, apparently I update this one every two months. I've moved and am slowly getting the hang of new job, so it might get faster from here? Even if it's slow it'll definitely get finished, I've got the whole plot mapped out.

When the commotion dies down, Lip, Haseul, and Jinsoul gather around a table. 

A waitress appears, serving the stew Jinsoul’s fish disappears into. She’s smiling instead of suspicious; all the locals are friendlier all of a sudden. Apparently there’s a prophecy about she-who-conquers-the-fish-of-the-deep and now Jinsoul’s their savior or something. 

It means free food, in any case.

“How did you get here,” Haseul says. 

Jinsoul opens her mouth to answer and unease sweeps through Lip. Her crew knows better than to divulge the unconventional aspects of their operation, but Jinsoul forgets things sometimes. 

Often. 

Most of the time. 

Lip glares to convey, _don’t reveal anything compromising_.

“Oh, I teleported.” 

Perfect communication, as always. Lip wonders if the kraken needs a human slave. Maybe it could take Jinsoul off her hands, keep her out of trouble.

It takes a minute for Haseul to be sure that’s not a joke, her eyebrows climbing higher and higher. 

Belatedly, Jinsoul remembers she’s talking to a rival captain. 

“I mean, I swam! Yeah, swimming. I swim really fast.”

“Excellent recovery,” Lip says, face in hands because she’ll lose it if she has to watch Jinsoul’s illustrative swimming motions. “Not at all suspicious.”

“Thanks!”

“You can teleport?” Haseul sounds intrigued rather than any of the usual suspects: disgusted, afraid, about to run the other way as fast as possible now that she knows Lip and her crew aren’t quite human. 

Lip needs to be sure, though, so she catches Haseul’s eye.

“You’re ok with this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s an advantage. I like advantages.”

Haseul reaches for Lip as she says it, and Lip thought she already liked Haseul as much as she could like anyone but turns out she was wrong. At the soft pressure of Haseul’s hand on hers, the feeling carves out more space inside her, takes over new territory, and if it keeps going like this Lip isn’t sure she’ll have room left for anything else. 

The worst part how nice it sounds, having Haseul claim all of her.

“Do all of you have powers?” Haseul’s eyes slide over Lip, warm and considering, as if searching for some mark of magic. “Or is Jinsoul special.”

“Lip’s is better than mine,” Jinsoul says.

Lip should scold her for another reckless revelation, but she’s caught up in Haseul’s curious wonder. 

So often her abilities feel like a cheat instead of a gift. Lip has become expert at using them without detection, keeping to the kinds of speed no one will notice. 

But when Haseul says –

“Do I get to see?” 

– Lip can imagine a world where her power isn’t shot through with shame. For once she wants someone to know: wants to be obvious, wants to be marveled at. 

She decides to show rather than tell.

Summoning speed, she flexes harder this time, so that from her perspective Haseul slows down mid-sentence. Her last syllable slides down the octave until Lip is moving too fast for sound to reach her. The world feels still all around; movement is happening, at very small increments, but Lip exists at an entirely different scale. In this moment, she and the world are incommensurable. 

Now the question is: what should she do?

Haseul is about to sip her drink, the mug almost to her mouth. Lip would like to replace it with something, contemplates trading ale for sea water but liquids are unpredictable at high speeds and it would be just her luck to slosh all over the girl she’s trying to impress. 

Scanning the room, she sees the bartender paused mid ale-pour, the obnoxious man from earlier immortalized in losing an arm-wrestling match. Lip takes a second that’s 1/1,000,000 of everyone else’s to appreciate the karma.

Finally, her eyes land on the head of Jinsoul’s giant fish, displayed like a trophy on a shelf. 

She makes her move, then slows to pace the rest of the world. 

“See,” Haseul finishes, attempting to sip from her drink. 

Her lips find scales instead of mug and her whole body jerks – cute, Lip thinks helplessly – mouth dropping into an “o” as she looks from Lip to the fish head and back again. 

“It’s speed,” Lip says, voice low. “If I go fast enough, it’s kind of like being able to stop time.”

“That’s awesome.”

“It’s useful.”

Haseul shakes her head.

“It’s so much more than that. I have a hundred questions but – Choerry? What can she do?” 

“We don’t know. She has a power, theoretically, but we’ve never seen it.”

“About that,” Jinsoul breaks in. “She disappeared from the lifeboat. Just popped out of space.”

“Did the kraken get her? That sounds like what happened to me,” Lip says. 

“No, she was the one doing it.”

“How do you know?”

“She said ‘I see now,’ drew some symbols in the air, and vanished. It didn’t feel like when I teleport either. Everything was more…”

Jinsoul makes a squiggly hand gesture.

Well. That clears things up.

Lip is tempted to yell about the importance of sharing vital information, but yelling makes Jinsoul sad and then she gets out her pleading eyes and all progress grinds to a halt until you apologize. So Lip just clenches her hands around the top of the table, counts to ten.

Haseul looks between them. 

“Another round?”

;;

Thus Jinsoul joins the merry quest. 

Later, as they row out to the ship, Haseul gives Jinsoul a brief on her crew.

“They’re wary, but they know better than to do anything to my guests. Besides, you’ll be in the captain’s cabin with Lip so you can always retreat there.”

“She will?” Lip says. “I don’t want to kick you out of your own space.”

Haseul shrugs.

“No worries. It’ll be good to reconnect with the crew, anyway.”

There’s relief in the prospect of trading Jinsoul for Haseul, but also a little disappointment. Lip was dreading extended alone time with Haseul, sure, but underneath the dread lurked other things Lip hesitates to give a name to. Maybe, she’d thought, with enough time and opportunity, she could work up the courage to-

Except that would be dangerous, so it’s good she won’t get the chance to find the end to that sentence.

Instead, she shares a bed with a very clingy Jinsoul. 

“I’m glad you’re ok, Cap. I thought you didn’t make it.”

“You’d be ok without me.”

Lip has always been sure of that: Jinsoul is smart and resourceful behind all the blond, and Choerry could befriend a cannibal who’s trying to eat her. Lip may be the leader in name, but those two were fine before she came along and will continue to be fine no matter what. 

Only Jinsoul shakes her head, unusually serious.

“No, we wouldn’t. So don’t do anything stupid.”

Lip swallows down the lump in her throat. 

“Going in search of a physics-defying sea monster is pretty stupid.”

“Then at least don’t do it alone.”

;;

Lip gets up at sunrise. When she reaches the deck, Haseul is already there. 

“How was your reunion,” Haseul says with a suggestive wink. That’s weird, but whatever. Sometimes Haseul is weird. 

“Fine. Jinsoul still snores.”

“Just fine?”

It takes a second, but the implication clicks. 

Haseul thinks she and Jinsoul are involved. It’s not the first time someone has made that assumption, and often Lip lets people go on assuming to avoid unwanted attention. 

With Haseul, though:

“Oh, I don’t…do that. With people on my crew, or with many people in general.”

“Oh.”

Haseul sounds thrown, her cheeky bravado gone, and Lip wishes she could get herself to look over, see whether there’s a pretty blush painting Haseul’s cheeks. But Lip is thinking back to that night, and she’s sure Haseul is too, and it would be too much to accidentally make eye contact while they’re both thinking about the time they almost slept together.

She might do something crazy. Like kiss Haseul. 

And as much as she’d like to, she shouldn’t do that. Feelings are one thing – she can admit that she has them, Haseul affects her too much to try to pretend otherwise – but acting on them is another. Too much can go wrong, and not just in the ‘we break up and it gets awkward’ way.

“So you’re not with her,” Haseul says.

Lip tells herself that’s not hope she hears. It’s just clearing up a misunderstanding, nothing more. 

Still, in the name of clarity:

“Not with anyone else, either.”

“Same. Since we’re sharing things.”

“That’s, uh. Good to know.”

They don’t say anything else for a long time, just stand together watching the sea.

;;

The ship sets sail as soon as provisions are loaded and a final round of gossip is gathered.

There are enough kraken encounters now to be sure of the pattern – all the weirdness converges on a central point. Lip has a hunch that whatever waits there is key to understanding this whole thing, but that’s as far as her mind gets. She can’t fit the pieces together: creatures that shortcut space and time, Choerry coming into her own (related?) power, the empire paying pirates to investigate for them. 

Try as she might, she can’t come up with a single imagination of what they might find. 

They’ll get there soon enough, in any case. It’s only a week’s trip to the location starred on the map, and Haseul’s ship makes good time.

;;

Or, it should. 

Conditions are perfect when Lip goes to double check the cargo deck (it may not be her ship, but habits die hard and while Haseul’s crew still glowers at her it’s not like she wants them crushed under a poorly secured barrel). 

By the time she gets back, the wind has deserted them and clouds cover the horizon. 

“Not again,” Haseul grumbles at the darkening sky. 

“Again?”

“This happens every time I sail. Just wait, it’s about to-”

A drop of water hits Haseul’s nose. She goes a little cross-eyed trying to glare at it.

“Rain?” Lip offers.

“How did you guess.”

Lip’s reply disappears under a sudden downpour, and she joins the rest of the crew in escaping below deck.

In her experience, storms crest then break. She expects this one to follow the pattern, to last a day or two at most, but it lingers on with stubborn monotony, neither escalating nor abating. 

Except for the rain, steady and plodding, the sea is unnervingly calm. There’s no wind at all, and they spend a week traveling what should take them a day. 

Most people stay below since there’s nothing to do, and no danger to the ship beyond what a crew might get up to in boredom. Various games of cards get going; even Jinsoul gets pulled into one, and Lip has to blink to be sure she’s not hallucinating when she sees her own first mate laughing with Haseul’s grumpiest lieutenant. 

It’s just Haseul above, alone at the wheel, so as the days accrue Lip decides to keep her company.

“You don’t have to,” Haseul says. “The weather is gross and I’m pretty good at this.”

“I know. I just like being here with you.”

Haseul goes quiet, turning away.

The reaction shouldn’t thrill Lip, not if she’s serious about saving the world over getting the girl. But Haseul has been such an easy flirt up to this point; there’s satisfaction beyond measure in seeing her scour the deck for something to say.

Lip wonders what caused the change. Maybe it feels different, now that Haseul knows she’s available. Maybe Haseul's weighing it out in her mind too, want versus obligation. 

As Haseul holds her silence, wondering gets the best of Lip. 

Her thoughts spiral out in a hundred directions, imagining futures utopian, catastrophic, and everywhere in between. She needs to know what Haseul is thinking, is desperate for at least the clue of her expression. She’s at the wrong angle, though, with Haseul facing away and cast in shadow.

She could look without Haseul knowing. 

Just this once, Lip thinks.

She speeds up until Haseul is frozen, moves until she can see. Haseul's expression is shy – apprehensive or maybe excited? The texture is hard to discern, especially to someone who spends more time with the sea than with people. Maybe if Lip had stayed home and studied art like her parents wanted she’d be able to make meaning from the planes of Haseul’s face.

God, Haseul is beautiful. That, at least, she knows for sure. 

Lip stays there watching a fraction too long, loses her grip on time. Only just makes it back into place before the world catches up.

;;

It should stop there. 

You’d think Lip wouldn’t need to slow down the world. They’re essentially waiting for weird things to find them, and without a heist to plan or battle to prepare there’s nothing but time.

Time to watch the gray sky, always at the edge of rain (maybe that’s my power, Haseul jokes). Time to bicker with Jinsoul about proper table manners, because being a pirate is no excuse for chewing with your mouth open. 

Time to sneak glances at Haseul and feel guilty about it.

But once she’s used her power it’s hard to stop.

There’s pleasure in timelessness: Lip has the luxury of looking as much as she wants, for as long as she wants, without having to admit to anything (or make it too real). 

So she does it again and again. Always when she’s alone with Haseul, when there’s no one else around to notice her changing position in the space between seconds. Haseul's not going to see, she feels sure: these days her eyes seem to anchor on everything but Lip.

;;

Two weeks into the journey, Haseul and Lip sit in the captain’s cabin poring over maps. It’s more ritual than necessity at this point, but there's comfort in pretending they're doing something.

As they argue lazily about the best course, Haseul knocks over a pot of ink. Without thinking, Lip speeds up to catch it.

When she slows down, Haseul is staring straight at her.

“You’ve done that before. Around me.”

It’s not a question. That was a test, Lip realizes: Haseul set her up again, and this time she’s sure she didn’t pass.

Lip nods, heart pounding in her ears.

“What. I mean, why…”

Haseul swallows like she’s scared to finish the question. 

Shame and self-loathing roll through Lip; she stammers to find an excuse.

“I don’t do anything, I swear. I would never without your permission.”

“Then why?”

Because there aren’t enough seconds in the day to look at you, Lip thinks.

She says nothing, but it feels like Haseul can hear anyway. 

Lip can't bear to look at her, so the creak of her chair is the first warning she gets that Haseul moves closer.

“What if you had permission,” Haseul says. Her gaze dips down to Lip’s mouth, the boldest declaration either of them have made.

“We shouldn’t,” Lip says, which only makes the possibility realer. What they shouldn’t do crystallizes in the air between them. Lip breathes it in with every inhale, watches it flicker along Haseul’s eyelashes (she’s leaning forward now, close enough for Lip to count them).

“There are a lot of things in the world that shouldn't be.”

Lip can feel the words as much as hear them, and she knows in a fleeting moment of clarity that if a kiss happens there's no coming back.

“Lip,” Haseul says, small and unsure. She may be the stuff of legend but in this moment she’s achingly human, waiting for Lip to bend down to meet her. 

That's what tips Lip over the edge: she'd have to bend down to kiss Haseul. Haseul is shorter, she's always known, but she's never felt it quite like this. Lip is used to being the smaller one herself, and the realization that this time she wouldn't be brings a surge of fondness to balance the want.

She gives in, reaching for Haseul with all of her body.

Then, thunderous feet sound on the stairs. They separate just as Jinsoul appears, to the bittersweet taste of almost.

“Good, you’re both here,” Jinsoul says breathlessly. “Lookout spotted a ship. It’s flying Yves’ flag.”

**Author's Note:**

> twt: [@leaderline97](https://twitter.com/leaderline97)  
> cc: [@leaderline97](https://curiouscat.me/leaderline97)


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